


hark, now hear the wolves sing

by selinipainter



Series: between the lines [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, ft. the rest of the 100 as the really pushy kids that demand to be included
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-29
Updated: 2015-03-29
Packaged: 2018-03-20 05:52:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3639174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/selinipainter/pseuds/selinipainter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>this is their story. no, not a story for theirs is no fairytale. it is a battlecry, war song that weaves through their bones and down their arms and leaps across their bridged palms.</p>
            </blockquote>





	hark, now hear the wolves sing

read between the lines, there are some things stories can never tell you. things that you must understand and grasp yourself. ready?

no? it’s alright, no one ever is.

there was a boy and there was a girl. there was a knight and there was a murderer. the boy was a killer when the girl was the knight and the girl was a murderer where he had been the saviour.

was there a victor? you tell me.

 

(i will tell you this:

there is no story that can be told about the boy and girl, without speaking of their people. the leaders need their people, the masses that buoy them on faith and conviction, give them the strength to do what had be done.

there were girls and boys, a hundred score of them sent down to earth. the adults tell them it was so that the children could live, but what comes out is that they are to die. they are to have the fate of iphigenia, for the gods must have their due. and always, like andromeda, they will be the weregild of their mothers and their fathers.

instead, they survive. they live and they thrive, they grow together like tree branches and their leaders grow even closer, tangled like roots. and when they are torn apart by fate and tragedy and destiny, they grow harder still, like wolves. because this is their pack and home. they will not lose it again. 

the mountain men try to take this from them, try to make them forget the call of pack.

not for long.

because these were wolves bred for winter, not the summer things that know sun and laughs and life. winter wolves know these things, love and light and life. but there are things they know better: the give of ice under their feet, the pounding of hearts in their ears, the red of ripped throat and the white of snow.

these were things the ground and the grounders had forced them to learn, forced them to adapt or die. and well, they would not die easily. you can’t kill what was meant to be dead because things like that have a way of growing steel for brittle bones and diamond for fragile skin.

they are the victors, because they won when they knew there were no winners, only survivors with ice for blood and trigger fingers.) 

 

there was a girl and there was a boy. the boy was broken and then, the girl  shattered. once, i need you had fixed his wounds. his pleas could not piece his best friend together again. he remembered his mother telling him if he loved something he must set it free. he had cut octavia loose, had cut out the only beat his heart had ever known. and so, he thought it could not be any worse.

except setting the girl free had meant relearning to breathe, relearning what it meant to go without air. he had to learn to give when the pull of their tangled roots grew tight with distance and time.

the girl taught herself to let go when the tide pushed, tried to unlearn baring her teeth when she smiled. but this is the truth of it, children always become wolves and wolves, they never can turn back to being small and afraid. not when the flash of teeth when they smile is akin to their hands dripping with blood.

there once was a girl and a boy, there once was a pair. not anymore.

(but there is always an ending to all stories. and this is the end of theirs, as mortals and humans. their story will continue on, leaving them as eternal rulers in its wake. adapt or die, you see. and they had adapted, thrived in war and grown in peace together.)

**Author's Note:**

> I think the first was more in the way of a grittier Disney, I felt this one which is parallel/a sequel to the first is a little less fairytale-ish for me. A lot less Disney and a lot more Brother Grimm. Which is why I think this is a little bit more of my favourite than the first because I like dark things and whimsical things. And dark, whimsical things.
> 
> And I did start this story intending to tell the story of Bellamy and Clarke from between the lines, but well, the rest of the 100 were as always persistent on fitting in here somehow. You can't have the parents without the kids I guess. ;)
> 
> Come talk to me on [tumblr](http://natromxnov.tumblr.com/)? (Headcanons are especially loved)


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